Rachel stepped into the suite in San Francisco, looking around warily. She’d left Tarin talking with the architects, saying she had some personal errands she needed to get done. He’d eyed her curiously, but had nodded, so she’d taken a taxi back to the hotel.
Listening to the blissful silence, she moved slowly towards her bedroom, wanting to just…not move! After almost two weeks in Tarin’s presence, with early morning self-defense classes and evening dancing lessons, she was sore in ways she’d never known possible!
Not to mention, the whole trip had been a long series of sexual frustration. Tarin’s touch was too much for her these days. She couldn’t take more of it before she exploded and begged him to…what? Make love to her?
For a long moment, she considered. Would he? There had been long, powerful moments when he’d looked at her as if he felt the pulse-pounding desire as well. But was she imagining it?
“Probably not,” she muttered as she slipped off her heels and hobbled across the lush carpet.
That was another thing! She hated hotel rooms! They’d traveled to Paris, London, New York City, Dallas, and were now in San Francisco. Rachel had traveled with Princess Talia plenty of times. But their trips had been one or two cities at a time, not a marathon tour of five or six! The tedious series of lovely hotel suites that were all beginning to blur together. All of the airports definitely looked too similar for her to remember where they were, and she now understood why airport terminals had the name of the city in huge letters somewhere easy to see. It was for travelers like them, who’d been in too many cities and needed the reminder.
She wanted to go home, she thought wistfully.
“What’s wrong?”
Rachel spun around, startled when she heard Tarin’s deep voice. “I thought you were going out to dinner with the architects,” she said, not even trying to hide her irritation. She had been looking forward to a hot bath to soothe her sore muscles. If he were here, she couldn’t have that bath! He’d want do something active, something that would require use of her muscles!
He moved deeper into the room. “I watched the way you walked out of the building and canceled the dinner. Something is wrong!”
He peered down at her, obviously concerned. “Tell me what’s wrong. Are you sick?” he asked, pressing his palm to her forehead.
“I’m not sick,” she said, pulling back but he only pressed his other hand to the back of her neck, still taking her temperature with his hand. “I don’t have a fever, I’m just...”
Rachel pressed her lips together, utterly frustrated. She wanted to be strong and capable and to keep up with him. But right now, all she wanted was an hour to herself, neck deep in the tub.
His eyes narrowed at her hesitation. “Just what? What’s going on?”
“I’m sore!” she snapped, losing her grip on her temper. “You’re all…” she waved her hand in the air, “physical and moving around all the time, and I’m more of a home body. Normally, I come home from work and I curl up in a chair to read or sew or just relax. There’s no relaxing with you!” she finished, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.
He blinked at her for a long, stunned moment, then threw back his head, laughing. He pulled her into his arms and Rachel leaned into him, inhaling the clean, masculine scent of him. Goodness, he smelled good and felt good and sounded sexy as hell! For a precious moment, she closed her eyes, leaning into his hard chest, reveling in the moment.
“You need a massage,” he told her softly.
Jerking away, she shook her head. “Nope! No massage,” she told him firmly.
He lifted a dark eyebrow as he looked down at her. “You don’t like massages?”
She shivered at the intensity in those eyes of his, but wrapped her arms over her stomach defensively. “Um…I’ve never had one before,” Rachel admitted. At his astonished look, she continued, “The idea of being naked while a stranger touches me is…” Rachel stopped abruptly, realizing where that statement was going. She grimaced when she looked up at his raised eyebrows. “Okay, that sounded weird.”
He laughed softly, moving forward. “I’ve pushed you much harder this week than you’re used to, haven’t I?”
She leaned back against the wall behind her. “Yes. But that’s okay.”
He moved closer, standing directly in front of her. “Now you’re sore and achy…and afraid of a massage.”
Her body stiffened at his charge, but since she really was sore, the effort only caused her muscles to protest. It was worse when he reached out to slide a finger along her jawline. “Will you let me make it better?”
Rachel closed her eyes, leaning into that touch. Just for a moment, she promised. Just for the sheer pleasure that it gave to her tired, aching body. Then she realized what she was doing and her eyes flew open, her lungs filled with air, and she tried to pull back. But he realized what she’d done! Looking into his eyes, they were…heated?
“I’m fine,” she told him, trying to pretend as if that moment hadn’t happened.
“You’re more than fine,” he replied, his voice rough and low. His legs now touched hers and the skirt of her dress danced around his slacks. Their clothing was a barely adequate barrier to the tension vibrating around them.
But then he stepped back abruptly, turning away from her. “A massage will fix your aching muscles. Pressing the lactic acid out will release it and help ease the pain and it will also help them heal.” He walked to the bar. “I’ll get you a glass of wine while the massage table is brought up to your room.” With that, he poured a glass of scotch for himself and white wine for her.
When Tarin looked over at her, still standing there against the wall, she jerked upright. “Thank you, but I don’t need a massage.” With a curt nod, Rachel hurried down the hallway to her room.
“I’m just going to take a hot bath and that will fix all of my problems.”
Turning on the water, she sat on the side of the tub as she stripped off her clothes, dumping them on the floor because she was just too sore to put them away. When the tub was half full, she used some of the bubble bath on a whim. Normally, she didn’t allow herself the luxury of bubbles. But tonight, she poured them in with a heavy hand, feeling extra decadent.
She’d just slipped into the hot water, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the tub when a knock sounded. “I’m fine, thank you!” she yelled, assuming it was the housekeeper.
The door opened and Tarin stepped into the bathroom. A moment ago, the bathroom had been decadently large, but with his huge frame standing by the tub, the room shrunk!
“What are you doing in here?” she gasped, trying to gather the bubbles closer, hiding her nudity.
He set a glass of white wine on the edge of the tub. “Just bringing this in for you,” he said, then glanced at the floor and froze.
Rachel knew exactly what he was looking at. In slow motion, she watched as he bent down and picked it up. When he straightened, there was a pretty pink bra with small sparkly gems dangling from the spot between the barely-there cups. “Is this what you were wearing today?” he asked softly.
Her eyes widened, but she couldn’t form the words to respond. When he looked down at her, his eyes moved over the bubbles, obviously trying to see through them, and compare what he saw there to the small bra. “Nice,” was all he said, then turned around, walking out of the bathroom. “The massage table is ready when you are. Just come on out in your robe.”
Then he closed the door. Biting her lip, she struggled to come to terms with one thing; he’d kept her bra! The man had stuffed her pink bra, one of her favorites, into his pocket!
Rachel took a fortifying sip of her wine, leaning back against the tub again. But after his visit, the warm bath was too warm. It wasn’t relaxing. She turned her head and wondered about the massage. Should she do it? What harm could there be? She’d never had a massage before, so maybe she could indulge. Just this once?
Stepping out of the bathroom, she eyed the long, cushioned table with the soft sheet draped over it. There was a note that instructed her to cover herself with the sheet and lay face down. Sitting right next to the table was a cart with oils that looked to be in some sort of warming system and the whole thing looked…surprisingly inviting.
“Fine!” she grumbled. Dropping her robe, she moved to the table and took the sheet, shaking it out and draping it over her body as she lay down. The soft music and dim lights relaxed her more than the bath had.
She heard the door open and felt hands on her foot, trailing along her leg.
“This is my first time,” she told the person.
“You’ll be fine,” Tarin’s deep voice assured her.
Instantly, Rachel stiffened and tried to sit up. But his firm hand on her shoulders gently pressed her back down. “Don’t worry, Rachel. This will feel good.” He chose one of the bottles of heated oil and spread some in his hands.
“Tarin, this isn’t…!”
He leaned down, very close to her ear. “Relax, Rachel. I’m very good at this.” He put his hands on her shoulders and slowly pressed into the stiff muscles there. Immediately, she felt the pressure ease and moaned. “Wow!” she sighed, relaxing into his hands.
“I told you I know what I’m doing,” he replied with a laugh.
“Good grief, that feels incredible!” she sighed blissfully, as his strong fingers pressed into her sore muscles.
He continued to knead the knots in her shoulders and, when those were soft and pliant, he moved to her arms, starting with the right before moving to the left. He even pressed the tips of his fingers along her hands, stretching each finger carefully. As he returned to her back, she sighed with relief as he pressed into the small of her back. He soothed the muscles and every bit of tension in Rachel’s body released, easing with the pressure of his hands.
There was sexual awareness too, but with the way his hands were moving over her body, in an assured, non-sexual way, she could push the awareness to the back of her mind.
He moved higher, pressing his thumbs into the muscles along her spine and her shoulders, then lower and lower on her back but, when he started to get too low, she shifted, tensing slightly.
His soft chuckle washed over her. “Too low?” he asked, tugging the sheet higher, covering her whole back. That’s when he moved to her feet, pressing against the arch and her heel, her toes, in places she hadn’t even realized she was tense until he pressed a thumb or the heel of his hand into that spot. When he finished with her feet, he moved up one calf, then the other. He didn’t venture higher than her knee and she appreciated that. Any higher than her knee was dangerous territory.
“Still okay?”
“Yes,” she sighed sleepily.
“Good,” he replied. “I’m going to pick you up and put you into bed now, okay?”
“Oh!” she gasped, starting to sit up, surprised at how sleepy she was. “I can…”
“Be quiet,” he ordered softly. He carefully lifted her up, wrapping the sheet around her as he went, and tucked her into the bed. “Go to sleep, Rachel. I’ll see you in the morning,” and with that, he turned off the lights, bent low to kiss her sweetly and disappeared, closing the door behind him.
Rachel smiled as she rolled over, hugging a pillow to her chest. She really should get up and pull on her pajamas. But just now, she was disinclined to move. So she sighed and snuggled deeper into the warmth of the bedding and promised herself she’d just close her eyes for a moment, then get up and put on some clothes.